


Take Flight (A Thousand Paper Cranes)

by berrybliss



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Actor!Kuroko, Aged-Up Characters, AoMomo is a side pair, M/M, Random References to Various Forms of Media, Slow Updates, They have a kid here :), because author is trash, businessman!Akashi, potential feels fest, the fic that crushes all your happy dreams for akakuro, when berry publishes a fic with proper title capitalization it means it's serious
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2018-11-09 18:35:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11110464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berrybliss/pseuds/berrybliss
Summary: Kuroko Tetsuya, a man in the prime of his acting career, and Akashi Seijuurou, a man burdened with his family’s legacy - college sweethearts who share a special bond - face a sudden hurdle in life when one of them is diagnosed with a deadly disease somewhere into adulthood.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! This is, as said in the tags, my first serious attempt at a multi-chapter fic. The first two chapters will be a prologue of sorts for what is to come, already written out as I write this author's note. I will post the second chapter soon. Be warned however, that my school starts at June 9, and updates will be slow after that. :(  
> As said in the warnings, if you don't cope well with major character death, this fic is not for you.  
> Enjoy. :)

Kuroko waits patiently for the person on the other side to pick up. He’s in his hotel room, eyes rapidly blinking because everything has felt a tad bit off for a while now. He’d give anything to hear Akashi Seijuro’s voice again. He doesn’t even know what time it is now in Singapore, only knows that in Japan, it is currently 1 A.M. and he feels completely worn out.

He and Akashi are no strangers to working at late hours.

The dial tone rings on and on. He considers hanging up for a moment, but instead, waits. Typically, there is no answer, and when the phone tells him that ‘the number you dialled is unreachable at the moment’, that he should call again later - it is only then that he lets the phone fall to his side, a mental note to try again later.

It’s alright if there is no answer. He expects nothing less from his husband, who is understandably busy. His phone may not even be beside him. He closes his eyes for a moment, feeling the tiredness catch up as his body is cocooned by the fluff of the luxurious mattress. His eyes are tempted to give in to how heavy they feel, but instead, he gets up as always, grabbing for his copy of the script.

A new feeling grips him as he holds onto the script. Fear.

He hadn’t done well at all today. It’s strange that his vision should falter at times, that his balance is faultier. His vision has always been 50/50, after all, and the sudden hindrance is starting to become a real hard thing to overcome while on set. It’s frustrating, because while he’s no stranger to nudges and negative comments, this production is so immeasurably important for him. After bagging a Blue Ribbon Award for Best Supporting Actor less than a year ago, he can’t afford to rest on his laurels. That’s what it looks to them, the production crew, and whatever he says will sound like he’s making excuses.

It can’t hurt to practice more with the script, to commit everything to memory - the gestures, the emotional impact of the scene, with just the right ferocity in his voice and eyes. He needs to give them what they want. And he needs to do it fast.

He loves what he’s doing. This has always held true, ever since he first started - but some part of him is saying this is more serious than it looks to be, that it’s not stress, and that he should tell someone. He promises to treat himself better, to get a fuller sleep. He hopes that it will be enough to keep whatever this is at bay. It silences the urge to tell someone else, and that’s exactly what he needs.

He opens his mouth and immerses himself in a different world - a world where he’s whole and feeling better than he has been in days.

* * *

 

 “No.”

Kuroko has lost count. The director shakes his head, and Kuroko’s co-star, veteran actor Harasawa, clicks his tongue.

 “I’m sorry.” Kuroko bows, feeling his lips tremble and his stomach turn. It’s hot in the studio, and the layers of clothing don’t help with how he’s profusely sweating under the weight of everything. “I’ll do it again.” It has _never been this hard._ No matter what he does, the words feel hollow, and that can’t be.

He forces himself to look Harasawa in the eye, and hearing the cue, he does it again. He gets rid of the fear, even though it nags at him from inside.

“Sensei, please don’t say things like that. If Yuzuru-ouji heard you-“

“You are playing with fire, boy. You fail to see that no matter what you say, the inevitable will happen. Do _not_ drag Yuzuru-ouji into this.”

Harasawa’s voice is razor sharp. It sends shivers down Kuroko’s spine.  “I will say what I want to say. I will at least be allowed that privilege, you yourself knowing all too well how confining the walls of the palace are. Besides, my lessons will soon be obsolete. What does it matter if the palace loses the likes of me?”

“You are Yuzuru-ouji’s greatest protector. He is...” Kuroko hangs his head lowly, “He is afraid.”

“I don’t see why you are so worried.”

Kuroko’s eyes widen. Fortunately, it is an appropriate reaction for Amane. None of that is in the script. The crew seem equally as surprised.

Ad-lib. What would Amane say in this situation? In the first place, why would such a thing come out of Furikake’s lips? His fingers balls into fists at his sides, gripping the fabric of his clothes.

“There is something coming, Sensei. You know it too.” He changes his expression into hurt, “You know it all too well.”

He’s lucky they are halfway into their final week of production. The next time around, he won’t be so lucky.

_“Cut!”_

 “Thank you for the hard work.”

Harasawa approaches him.

"You did well, more than I expected you to."

He is a shadow again, obscure and hidden in the depths, consumed by radiance and light regardless of presence. The industry is demanding. It’s a miracle he’s come this far, but he doesn’t want it to end anytime soon.

They will not tolerate any more slip-ups. He’s been given enough second chances already.

* * *

 

He does not fall on his feet. He feels far more concentrated than he has been in a while. Everything is sharper and in focus, and things actually feel right. Harasawa even offers his seal of approval.

Kuroko is close to believing it, after telling himself that everything is okay, and that everything will be okay.

Maybe he is just tired.

* * *

 

When his phone rings, he’s a tad bit hopeful it’s Akashi. It’s not necessarily any less thrilling when it’s his parents who’ve called. If anything, he’s overjoyed to hear from them again.

“Father?”

“Guess again.”

He shoots up from where he’s at. “It’s good to hear from you, mother. Is everything alright? Is father...” He trails off.

“Relax. I’m using your father’s phone because mine ran out of balance. Katsuhiro,” She calls, “Say hi.”

“Tetsuyaaaaaaaa, it’s your father.” Another voice, undoubtedly his father, says, “If that Akashi boy is doing anything funny, let me know. I’m always here to beat him up.” A fist bumps against a palm strongly, making a smacking sound.

Kuroko cannot help the chuckle that escapes his lips after hearing his father’s funny antics. “Please assure dad that Akashi-kun has been nothing but his charming self.”

“Alright, that’s enough from you.” Tetsuna says to Katsuhiro, “Tetsuya says he’s fine.” Her voice is closer to the receiver when she speaks again, taking a deep intake of breath. “Anyways. Your dad’s being a typical in-law, as you know. We just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Yes, of course, mother. Akashi-kun and I are fine.” He says, lying back onto his pillow.  “Have you and dad been eating properly?”

 “Yes, silly. I’ve improved, but your dad still cooks better than I do. Also, we watched one of your college productions again.”

“Ah,” Kuroko winces inwardly, “Which one?”

_“Listen.”_

That had been his first one. Recalling it is like dipping a hand into a time capsule filled with cherished things. There are all sorts of things in there, but he doesn’t expect this.

He doesn’t always mention how he’s glad with how that one turned out. It made him discover his true passion for acting, breathing life into a character that cannot be contained solely by words.

Tetsuna seems to have noticed his reaction upon hearing her answer. She chuckles, her voice considerably mellowed out, “We don’t get to tell you how proud we are of you as often as we’d like, so I’ll say it again: I’m proud of you, Tetsuya. We both are, with how far you’ve come. Even before, we already were.”

“Thank you.” Kuroko says sincerely, smiling to himself. It’s words like these that keep him going. The support makes everything feel worth it. “I’ll keep doing my best.”

The conversation ends without any mention of how things have been going. Somehow though, it’s alright. It doesn’t bother him as much anymore.

He wishes the sadness is as easy to store away as the happy memories, but it isn’t. Still, there’s more to be happy about than to be sad over. Looking at things positively has always worked out well before. He’d done just fine today. There is no need to fret.

One more day.

* * *

 

“Kuroko-san, you had a call.”

Kuroko accepts the phone held out to him by his talent agent and looks at the caller ID. It is Akashi. There are two text messages sent after the three missed calls.

[1]                                              

**From: Seijuro**

**Subject: -**

**Text: I’m terribly sorry for not seeing your attempts to call, Tetsuya. I’ll fully explain when I call you tonight. What time would be convenient for you?**

[2]

**From: Seijuro**

**Subject: -**

**Text: I know that today is your last day of filming for A Thousand Paper Cranes. I wish you the best of luck.**

**I’m sure you’ll do fine. You always do wonderfully.**

**Love, Seijuro.**

Kuroko feels his throat bob. He types up a reply.

**To: Seijuro**

**Subject: -**

**Text:**

**You remembered.**

**I’m on break right now. We’re about to shoot again soon, though. Everyone’s quite excited.**

His fingers hover over the keyboard.

**And it’s completely fine. Please don’t worry about it.**

**10:30 JST would be good.**

**I have so much to tell you.**

**Yours truly, Tetsuya.**

He takes something out from his bag’s smallest pocket. It is warm against his lips, no doubt from being stored in the bag for so long.

His character is a prisoner - or at least, will be one - and has no business wearing a wedding band around his finger. Kuroko makes it a rule to stay true to his character for as much as he can, even going as far as to sleeping on the floor mat despite being in a hotel. Sometimes though, it’s because he’s fallen out of the bed, really.

Not for the first time in years, he can’t wait to be just Tetsuya.

* * *

 

Still, he doesn’t hesitate to give it his all with his acting. It’s a scene that he has to carry with him, the ending. All the cameras will be on him.

When the cameras are on him, he is not quite Kuroko Tetsuya.

Through the lens, he is a boy who is alone in a new world. Beside a sleeping boy at the brink of death, he ties the last paper crane onto the long, long string and holds the dying boy’s hand. There is a passing breeze, and the white curtains of the worn-down house dance in painstakingly slow movements.

A small voice breaks through the silence, singing softly. Kuroko’s. _Amane’s._

_“The planes soar the sky and shatter our stars... what I would give to have my wish granted, like Sadako and her thousand paper cranes...”_

* * *

 

It is 8:00 when they check out of the hotel, a job well done after three months of filming. Kuroko, in particular, gets praise from the director that he doesn’t expect.

“We were worried about you, but it seems everything will be just fine.”

Everything in the hotel lobby is a blur, quite literally. Kuroko blinks, hard. The silhouettes don’t turn any clearer like they usually do. He can’t distinguish faraway objects anymore, can only deduce if a person coming his way is man or woman by the blur that is their features.

At one point, Kuroko almost bumps into a bellhop pushing a container full of luggage.

Abruptly, he apologizes and backs to the side, leaning against the wall for support. He’s thankful for his low presence, thankful that people aren’t looking hard enough to see that he’s there. At the back of his mind, he can still see the flashes of some of the cameras from the hotel guests who wanted to take a picture with him.

On the way home- 

He can’t look at car lights for more than a few seconds. He feels restless in his seat, wanting so much to speed past the traffic and regain himself again, because this isn’t normal anymore. This has never happened before, and something clearly isn’t right. It’s a true cause for worry.

He holds onto his cell phone all the way to the house, the house he and Seijuro have shared for 8 years now. The lock sounds with a satisfying click.

When he leaves his shoes at the doorway and feels the familiar texture of the mat beneath his feet, it tells him that he really is home. The screen of his phone flashes in the dark, showing the time. 10:04. He breathes easier now, when he’s alone.

His fingers trail towards the switch of the living room lights. The house is just as they left it, clean and organized. It scarcely seems like anyone’s living in it at all, if not for the little personal things that are displayed on the desks and framed on the walls, souvenirs and treasured moments captured in photos.

There is no heat when he touches the paper bag in which the food from the hotel is encased. He decides to store in the fridge and eat something else instead, taking out a bowl and a box of cereal from the upper cabinet.

The bowl of cereal is done quickly. He’s always liked cereal for meals. It takes him back to college a lot, way before he met Akashi. First two buttons of his shirt undone, he props his chin on his palm and smiles to himself, playing music on his phone. He spoons cereal into his mouth methodically, and he’s awfully sentimental in times like these.

Disappearing into the bedroom, he starts changing clothes. It’s awkward that while he’s about to remove his pants, his phone rings on the kitchen tabletop.

Shirtless, he walks to the kitchen and picks it up.

“Hello, Akashi-kun.”

“Good evening, Tetsuya. Am I disturbing you?”

“No, no,” Kuroko presses the phone to his ear and walks into the bedroom again. “I just got home a while ago. In fact, I’m, well, kind of shirtless right now.”

“Oh?” It’s voiced like a question, and he can imagine Akashi’s expression on the other side. “Well,” He chuckles, “We’ll have plenty of time when I get back.”

Kuroko puts it on loudspeaker, unable to help the smile that forms on his lips upon hearing Akashi’s words. “You’re coming home?”

“Tomorrow, yes. My flight leaves in sixteen hours.”

He pulls his pants off and changes into more comfortable pyjamas.

Akashi continues. “The deals are taking quite a bit to get for good. It’s dragged on for far more than we’ve anticipated. Father isn’t pleased.”

Kuroko reaches for the phone again, walking to the window.

“I’m sure it’s not your fault.”

“Try telling my father that.” A chuckle, more bitter this time. “I’m sure it’ll come to pass.”

Kuroko remembers his days on the set, counting the days. “A few more hours, Akashi-kun.” He whispers, assurance for himself and for Akashi.

“You always know just what to say.”

“When it counts.”

“...Do I hear faucet water?”

“Yes.” Kuroko makes sure the bowl doesn’t have any remaining milk left. He proceeds to wash the spoon, the utensil squeezed between his fingers. “I felt like eating something.”

He turns off the water and wipes his hands with the kitchen towel.

“You’re emphatic, Tetsuya, but not a natural at lying.”

Kuroko blinks. “And you know my job, as I know yours.”

“Yes...”

“You are keenly perceptive, Akashi-kun. I shouldn’t even be surprised.”

“I’m concerned for your well-being.”

“And I don’t fault you for it.” He lets out a sharp exhale, ”After the promotion of Paper Cranes, I’m thinking of putting my acting on hold. Spend more time with you and everyone else, hopefully.”

“You sound unsure.”

He flinches. Akashi has seen right through him.

“I still love acting.” He starts, “But sometimes I feel like I’m not giving myself enough, that my acting career prevents me from being there for you when it counts. I know I’m not making any sense right now, but that’s what I’ve been feeling for a while.”

There is a long pause.

“Akashi-kun?” Kuroko prompts, “Is something wrong?”

“You’ve given me more than enough, Tetsuya.”

He purses his lips, feeling them tremble. “Have I?” Desolate sadness grips at him. Deep down, he knows why.

“I know that acting is your passion. It’s where everything began. It’s one of the many things that made me fall for you - your passion, I mean. I also know with confidence that you won’t stop even if I tell you that it’s perfectly alright if you do. Is that correct?”

“...Yes.”

“What I’m saying is - don’t feel so pressed for time, Tetsuya.” Akashi says, “Your time is essentially yours. Entering this relationship, we’ve always been aware what our respective careers might mean.  It’s understandable as to why you are frustrated, but acting is not going anywhere. And while not physically there, I’m not gone either.”

Akashi’s voice is nothing short of gentle when he continues, “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. You know this.”

“...We don’t know that for sure.” He whispers back.

“Nothing is ever sure,” Akashi says, “It’s a matter of choice, and I have no intention of stopping you from doing what you love. It’s a nice sentiment for you to take my feelings into account, but this’ll come to pass too. We can talk about this more thoroughly when I get back. For now, rest. You’ll need it.”

He closes his eyes. “Thank you for listening, Akashi-kun.”

“There is no need to thank me. It’s what partners do for each other.”

“Partners,” Kuroko smiles, “I’m glad I got to talk to you, Akashi-kun. I feel much better.”

“Do you want anything in particular from Singapore? I’ve attained some collectibles that your father and mother might be interested in. I have some for Daiki and the others too. I have yours, actually, but I just wanted to ask, just in case you wanted anything to come with it?”

“Rich people.” He mock-sighs. “There’s nothing in particular, no.”

“You forget that you’re my husband, and that makes half of the Akashi empire yours, so all things considered, you are rich.”

“One-fourth,” Kuroko points out, “One half of it is ours, and half of it is your father’s. It’s divided and is distributed into smaller percentages which I won’t bother with because I’m not a human calculator and will never be in this lifetime.”

“I do hate it when you talk business to me.”

“And I mistook you, Akashi Seijuro, for a good liar.”

“This really has gotten out of hand, Tetsuya.” Akashi says after having his good share of laughing, “You need to rest. You’re probably tired.”

“Are you sleeping fine there?”

“Surprisingly, yes. I do miss sleeping with you though.” It’s said completely in earnest, and it warms Kuroko’s heart to hear it from Akashi, because it’s true - the house is not same without Akashi. Nothing is quite the same without him. It helps to have someone who is simply _there_.

“I’ll see if I can come back sooner than expected.”

“That’s nice to hear. Good night, Akashi-kun.”

“Good night, Tetsuya.”

Kuroko goes to wash the bowl he used. He’s feeling better, now that he got to properly talk with Akashi, but he doesn’t deny that he’s worried, deep down. He will have to see an eye doctor soon, before it all takes a turn for the worse.

He thinks he’s mistaken at first, but it is true - it starts to rain outside, hard.

Eventually, with tired footfalls, he lies down on the bed that he and Akashi share, drifting into a dreamless sleep.

Unsurprisingly, problems don’t disappear the next morning after a good sleep. It’s actually for sure this time that his vision has been getting worse, and it only increases the need to go see an eye doctor for a new glasses transcription - _but_ , amidst a sea of messages from his agent, he does have a message from Momoi.

**From: Momoi-san**

**Subject: Reunion**

**Text: Hello, Tetsu-kun!! Ki-chan is thinking of having a reunion tomorrow at Mukkun’s cafe because he’s coming back from Paris in the morning. Isn’t that great news?! Dai-chan and Midorin are going. It would be nice if you could come too. Worry not! I already sent a message to Akashi-kun as well. :D**

**Everyone’s been so busy, so this is nice. We thought it would be nice to celebrate your upcoming movie too. :3 Because two birds with one stone. Hope to see you two lovebirds there~**

Kuroko replies in earnest, saying that he’ll do what he can to come. He also tells Momoi about the bare estimate at which Akashi will be coming home from Singapore.

Maybe he is just overthinking things after all.

He yawns, promising himself another ten minutes of sleep.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akashi has the intent to surprise Kuroko, but what finds its way to Akashi that night is not something he would have seen coming, at any rate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random Rambling: It's the first day of school and I really want to read the new fic updates but homework first, haha xD BUT YES. THIS IS THE BIG REVEAL XD  
> Fun fact: THE HARDEST THING ABOUT THIS CHAPTER WAS NAMING MURASAKIBARA'S CAFE. GAH. IT TOOK ME SO LONG. I'M SORRY.  
> Enjoy! ^^

Being a CEO doesn’t leave Akashi with much time for enjoyment, but in moments when he’s alone and in dire need of rest, he turns to watching videos of him and Kuroko together with the others, videos recorded in secret.

They are not movies or any of Kuroko’s productions - simply Kuroko as himself. It both helps and emboldens the longing that comes with being away from him and other company.

He has just finished reviewing half of the files related to their Singaporean branches. He hopes that by now, Kuroko is already fast asleep in his bed. Akashi had lied when he said he was sleeping well, but it is of no matter. He has never been high maintenance, something he is extremely thankful for.

He really does miss sleeping in the same bed with Kuroko. It is unsettling, not seeing the familiar blue of Kuroko’s hair. Even the stars are not enough to take away the vivid image of Kuroko’s eyes looking at him, encasing love and promises and keeping them safe miles away from here. 

He knows that the last thing he should be doing is taking a trip down memory lane, but he will get the work done - he always does, has been doing the same thing for years. It is strange, how he holds no complete control over managing his time, work taking up such a large portion of it.

Deep down, he knows that he could have had a different life. It had already been open defiance when he took Literature as a minor back in college. He very well could have become a writer if he so wished it, like Aomine so often told him. But a part of him, the part that won, hadn’t wanted to see so many years training to become his father’s perfect heir go to waste.

In return, the price he paid was much higher.

Through and through, the life he has chosen is the life of an Akashi.

But the life he has worked so hard to create and build - he doesn’t despise it. He has no reason to, even though in his shoes, people will find so many other reasons to complain.

While watching the videos, it’s clear as to why.

Akashi Seijuro is a man who loves every single waking moment he spends with Kuroko Tetsuya.

Work isn’t so bothersome when Akashi finds purpose in it, finds purpose in doing things for the one he loves, for the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with.

Thinking that his father had been like this once makes him see things in a different light. Being an adult and marrying Kuroko, he has caught glimpse of many things, things that never would have crossed his mind before in the confines of work desks, buried in work. As a child, it had all been speculation, musings of a far too mature teenager who was human just like everyone else, destined for greatness, and a tad bit lonely.

They are vital things to have been learned, considering his mother’s early passing.

He contemplates on telling Kuroko about his father’s offer, but saves it for when he’s back in Japan. Home, to where Kuroko is.

Before long, the sun rises. Akashi stares at the window in acute disbelief.

Ten more hours of business meetings and appointments before his flight to Japan.

At least he gets to surprise Kuroko.

* * *

[1]

_“Dai-chan was so adorable when he was changing the baby’s diaper! Look, look!” Momoi shows them a picture, featuring Aomine who had been unaware that a photo of him was being taken by his wife._

_“It looks like he’s dying in the picture.” Kuroko deadpans._

_“Hiro-kun is such a well-behaved baby though.” There are sounds of a baby cooing in Kuroko’s direction. “He really does take after his dad on the outside.”_

_“Oi, Tetsu, what do you mean on the outside?!”_

_“He means exactly what he said, Daiki.”_

_“... I’ll pretend that was a compliment.”_

_“It was,” Kuroko says warmly, “Aomine-kun is good-looking.”_

_“You’re entertaining his ego too much, love.”_

_“I entertain yours on a daily basis too, Akashi-kun.”_

_They kiss. It is chaste. Aomine pulls a pretend expression of disgust._

_“It’s like when your parents are kissing, ugh.” He groans. “If Kise were here he’d glare daggers at Akashi.”_

_“Totally. And Midorin would huff and be like ‘I fail to comprehend the need to rub it in our faces that the two of you are overtly affectionate with each other. Not that I care... or anything.’ Something like that?”_

_“Uwa, Sacchin, that was amazing.” Murasakibara says, a tray of newly baked pastries in his hand._

_“Thank you, Mukkun!”_

_“I suppose we should be thankful that Shintarou wasn’t here to bear witness to mockery of his tsundere personage.”_

_“Midorima’s always on his period, anyway.” Aomine cackles._

_“Now, now, Dai-chan, be nice.”_

_Momoi breathes out, content. “It only seems like yesterday when I met Dai-chan through Akashi-kun and Tetsu-kun. Now we actually have a family!”_

_“If a clairvoyant had told you that you’d be married to Aomine Daiki, I wonder how you would have reacted, Momoi.”_

_“Honestly? I would have told them ‘that’s just pushing it’.”_

_“Oi!”_

_“Aww, I love you too, Dai-chan.” Momoi plants a kiss on Hiroaki’s forehead. “And you too of course, our little ray of sunshine.”_

* * *

“Okay, Kuroko Tetsuya.” The ophthalmologist points at the computer screen. “It’s written in your records that you had fifty-fifty vision before, dated a good five years ago. For it to go up to the 400 mark since then, that’s quite alarming. Since when have you noticed a decline in your vision?”

“It’s been two months or so, but I didn’t have time to see an eye doctor.” Kuroko says truthfully. “It’s... not anything that can’t be cured, right?” He looks at the doctor expectantly.

“You haven’t experienced double vision?”

He thinks this over. “No.” He replies. The doctor nods.

“You have developed slight astigmatism, but that’s not a rare case. Glaucoma is negative, thankfully.” She points to the keratometer. “Please put your chin here, Kuroko-kun.”

He does as told, not unfamiliar with the eye check-up process. He tries hard not to blink as his eyes water while looking at the light.

“Okay, you can lift your chin now.”

He’s told that he needs a glasses prescription, but that that’s it. Kuroko nearly breathes out in relief. The ophthalmologist writes down the required grade for the lenses, and sees him off with a smile.

“We’ll have to closely monitor the heightening of your eye grade, so your appointment is set for next month. Feel free to come back even before that if you have any concerns, Kuroko-kun.”

He takes it gratefully with a small bow. “Thank you.”

After dropping his pay, he leaves the eye center and enters the car where his agent is waiting, parked at the side of the street.

“How did it go, Kuroko-san?”

“It wasn’t anything. I just have to get new glasses.” The seatbelt sounds with a click, “Yuta-san, you mentioned something about offers?”

“Ah, yes. Where...” He skims through several folders, “Here they are.”

Two scripts are taken out of the bag. Kuroko spares no time in reading the first few pages of them. The first one entitled “Soleil”, is a crime-thriller involving a phantom thief and a detective’s gritty past together, while the other one, “Hidamari”, is about a broken family that eventually settles their differences when the youngest brother falls ill to leukemia. It’s intriguing that both of them involve ‘the sun’. Hidamari is straight up his alley, but he does admit to wanting to work outside his comfort zone.

“For Soleil, they want you as Detective Mashima, and for Hidamari, the role I had in mind was Shogo’s sick little brother, Keita. Hidamari has a lower-budget than Soleil, but I guess it’s to be expected because Soleil’s a collab with an American studio.”

“That’s amazing, Yuta-san.”

“After ‘Sleepless’, you made quite a name for yourself, Kuroko-san. It’s not my doing at all. I have the schedule of the planned tours for Paper Cranes promotion too. Aaah, I’m so excited for you!”

Yuta’s eagerness has not changed at all over the years. Out of all the agents, he has worked with Kuroko the longest, and Kuroko is fond of that particular trait which Yuta possesses. He finds it hard to interrupt when the twenty-five year old starts going on about job offers, eyes sparkling.

“The filmmakers for Hidamari are fairly new, actually, but I think the role really fits you, and that the writing isn’t half bad! There’s also a new film by Suginami Kotarou and they would be lucky to have you-”

“Umm, Yuta-san.”

Yuta doesn’t seem to mind the interruption.

“Yes?”

“I actually planned to tell you a bit sooner, but I will have to speak to my husband before taking any other projects.”

“Ah yes, of course, of course, I understand.” Yuta nods. “Maybe some other time then. I don’t mean to pry, but is there any particular reason? Could it be? Have you decided to adopt a child?!”

Kuroko holds his hands up, shaking his head slowly. “Ah, no, it’s not that... although that may be a part of it.” He admits, “I’m not that sure myself. What I know is that we have a lot to talk about, and I’m thinking of spending the next few months doing that with him. We’re at that point in our relationship wherein there are more things to consider.”

“It’s amazing how Akashi-san is so supportive about your career.”

“It is.”

Whatever little the media knows about him and Akashi’s earlier years has been heavily sensationalized. Some dub it as an ‘inspiring love story’, and in many ways, Kuroko supposes that it is that. The stories in articles are spared of the unsavoury details of real happenings though, which he has every reason to be glad about. Him being an actor, and Akashi being a prominent business mogul - well, they barely get enough privacy as it is.

The car drops them off at a recording studio. His schedule for the rest of the afternoon is booked for the crew and cast of Paper Cranes, but after that, he’s free for the night, and for the next few days, save for touring and recording sessions with two anime series on air.

He confirms that he will make it to the reunion at 7:30.

* * *

 

“Dai-chan, have you left the house yet?”

“I’m just about to,” Aomine replies hastily, slipping into a checkered polo and kicking off his slippers. “Is there something wrong?”

“No, no!” Momoi laughs, “There’s no rush. I’m with Hiroaki-kun right now.”

“Wait, you’re what?!” He checks the time, worrying that he’s lost track of it again. The digital clock’s big numbers stare back at him. He glances at his work desk and promises to take care of the mess he’s made later. There are crumpled pieces of paper and pencils rolling down the desk and - oh god, they’ve fallen.

Aomine bends down to pick them up.

“Hiroaki-kun, say hi!”

“ ’Tou-san!”

“Hi there, Hiro.” He grins, putting the pencils on the desk along with the other ink pens. “It’s great that mom went over to fetch you.”

“Yeah! I’m very happy.”

When the person on the other side speaks again, it’s Momoi. “So Dai-chan, come over to the kindergarten? I happened to have an early day at work so I’m free for the next few hours. It’s our chance to spend time with Hiroaki-kun, like you always wanted.”

“Don’t worry, I’m on my way now. This stupid manga I’m doing can wait.”

He searches for the right key and securely locks the door of their house.

“Careful, Dai-chan. No rush.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure I’m gonna end up rushing anyway. Traffic sucks these days. Hey, you know what? Maybe I’ll run to the kindergarten. I miss jogging.”

Aomine can see Momoi shaking her head. “I’m sure you have enough stamina for that, but that’s never a good idea.”

“Do you have a better one?”

“Dai-chan, we have a _bike.”_

“A _two-wheel bicycle_. I really think I should get around to buying a motor bike soon.”

“For god’s sake, Dai-chan, take the bicycle, please? Besides, it’s only until our car is repaired.”

...

“... Since you said please.”

“Yay! That’s a good boy.”

“What am I, a dog?!”

“You’d make a very cute one! No detours to the magazine store, okay?”

Aomine’s pretty sure Momoi’s voice is dripping with venom and that for the latter sentence, she isn’t joking, because there is an underlying threat to it that screams ‘I will tear you limb for limb don’t _even_ think about it Aomine Daiki’ and he gets flashbacks to his mom from middle school - the thought both makes him chuckle and makes him feel a sudden burst of melancholy.

“My Mai-chan phase is over, Satsuki!”

“I just had to make sure, Dai-chan.”

Aomine, taking the bicycle, mourns his long since burnt magazine collection.  

Hell hath no fury like Aomine Satsuki née Momoi.

* * *

 

Kise arrives the earliest out of all of them. People glance his way when he enters Murasakibara’s café, but Kise’s shoulders are slightly slumped, and that doesn’t match with the image of the model they know to be on billboards and certainly does not match with the blond Japanese beauty walking down runways during fashion week. Thankfully, their table is in the café’s upper floor, reserved solely for their personal use, so they will be away from the people’s eyes, and it’s fine even if they decide to make a little noise.

Murasakibara, ever the generous ‘host’, sets down a cup of chamomile tea and asks Kise if he wants anything in particular to eat before the rest arrive. Kise shamelessly asks for a cookie, promising he’ll pay for it.

“There’s no need to pay for it, Kise-chin. You look... really tired.”

“Yeah, haha.” Kise laughs in response, scratching the back of his head. “I had a movie marathon on the flight back and didn’t sleep a wink. _And_ when I got back to Japan, I had to film a commercial. Oh, but Murasakibaracchi, I bought something!” He holds up a paper bag with fancy golden script on it. _Payard Patisserie._ “Bonbons! It’s for all of us to share!”

Murasakibara’s eyes widen. “Payard, as in... that Payard...”

“Yeah! I knew you would recognize the name.”

Murasakibara’s eyes gleam. He looks at Kise, at the plastic bag, and then Kise again.

“Well, you did study in Le Cordon Bleu, so that’s only to be expected.” Kise muses, “It would be nice if we could all share. Could you maybe put it in a fridge?”

“M’kay.”

“Try not to eat them.” Kise chuckles.

Murasakibara halts his walk to the stairs, and looks at Kise for a moment, as if in contemplation.

“Ahhhhh, I’m hungry...” He drawls, “Maybe I should-”

Kise flails his arms in protest, “MURASAKIBARACCHI, NOOOOOOOOO!!!!” He fails to mention that the bonbons cost a lot, but the purple-haired pastry chef knows that, for sure.

Murasakibara hugs the bag closer to his chest, pouting. “You know, Kise-chin, the more you remind me of them, the more I’ll want to keep them for myself.”

A drop of sweat trails down Kise’s brow. “... It sort of looks like you’ve already claimed ownership to them, though.”

Murasakibara waves his hand dismissively, his expression serious again, save for the ghost of a smile on his face. “Relax, Kise-chin. I have a strict policy of not eating anything during work hours. Tell someone to call me when the others are here, okay? So someone can fill in for me.”

“Oh, uh, sure thing. Thanks a lot again, Murasakibaracchi. We really appreciate everything you do for us.”

So Murasakibara goes back to the kitchen, leaving Kise alone with his cup of hot chamomile tea.

Kise almost spurts out while sipping though, because the person he least expects comes up the stairs, along with someone else.

“Akashicchi?!” He exclaims, then pointing at the other male standing beside Akashi, “You came with Midorimacchi.”

“We just happened to run into each other on the way here, that’s all.” Midorima says.

“But I thought Akashicchi was coming back from Singapore at a later time?”

Akashi surveys the table arrangement. “It was an estimate.” He says, taking a seat in one of the chairs, leaving a chair to his left for Murasakibara and his right for Kuroko.

Kise’s thoughts start running wild. “Where is Kurokocchi? Could it be? MIDORIMACCHI IS AKASHICCHI’S ACCOMPLICE AND KUROKOCCHI NEEDS MY HELP AND-“

“That’s a foolish notion, Kise. Besides, I’m sure Kuroko would ask help from someone else if it came down to it.”

“Wow, mean.” Kise pouts, “I’ll have you know, I’m pretty reliable when I want to be.”

Midorima scoffs.

“There’s no doubt that you are, Ryouta.”

“Yes, Akashicchi. _Thank you_. Midorimacchi’s not getting any bonbons tonight.”

Midorima stares at Kise, unamused. Eventually, he looks away, mind wandering off to other things.

Akashi’s lips quirk up. “Tetsuya doesn’t know I’m here, actually.” Tugging at his sleeves, he is the picture of propriety, voice even and still in a business suit. Kise feels like he’s in a job interview just by talking to him. ”My flight was earlier than expected and I wanted to surprise him. Daiki and Satsuki have not arrived yet?”

“Ah, if that’s about that, Momocchi sent me a mail. They’re on their way now, and should arrive at any moment-”

 “Hey.”

They all turn upon hearing the familiar voice.

“Aominecchi, Momocchi. Oh, and Hirocchi’s here too!” Kise waves, “Hi, Hirocchi!”

“Hiro...cchi...?” The five year old boy repeats, clutching his mother’s skirt. Momoi and Aomine both laugh.

“Oh, right.” Kise realizes, “I guess you don’t recognize me.” He stands up, and scoots over to the boy’s side, holding out his hand. “I’m Kise Ryouta, your mom and dad’s friend. You were only a baby when I last saw you, Hirocchi. Ah, I add ‘cchi’ to the names of people I respect or am close to, although in this case, I use it because it sounds cute with Hiro.”

Hiroaki looks at his hand for a moment with hesitance, but eventually takes it. All of a sudden, the little boy jumps.

“Now I remember! I saw you on TV. Aren’t you the guy in the lotion advertisement?”

Kise screams internally. He never liked that commercial of his much, so indicative and all. To think a little kid saw it...

“You are, right?”

“Y-yeah, I am...”

“Can I call you Uncle Yellow?”

“Huh?”

“Because,” Hirocchi skips his way to the table, “Midori-san is Uncle Green, Akashi-san is Uncle Red, Kuroko-san is Uncle Blue, and Mura-san is the Uncle Purple, so I get a new uncle, Uncle Yellow. That’s you!” He recites from sheer memory, it seems, and Kise can’t help but marvel at what’s happening.

But then, Hiroaki frowns, tilting his head. “I’m still not sure why Kuroko-san’s name isn’t related to Blue, because ‘kuro’ means black, but he has hair like the sky, so he’s Uncle Blue!”

“A-Aominecchi,” Kise stutters, “Appearance wise, there’s no doubt Hirocchi’s your kid but seeing it up close...”

“Yeah, I get told that a lot. Amazing, right?”

Hiroaki scampers to Kise’s side, still getting no answer to his earlier question. “Ne, ne, can I call you that?”

“Of course.” Kise pounds his fist against his heart. “It’s official then. I’m Uncle Yellow.”

“‘Tou-san, ‘Kaa-san, the rainbow uncles are complete!”

Everyone shares a knowing look.

Aomine’s the one who speaks up.

“Your Uncle Kise’s just not around a lot, but he’s always been part of our rainbow.”

A period of silence stretches.

Akashi and Midorima both start clapping slowly.

Momoi nudges Aomine. “That was the most beautiful declaration of friendship I’ve ever heard, Dai-chan.” She sniffs.

“What? It’s true.”

Momoi latches onto his arm. “Yeah, it is. Let’s go sit.”

The only vacant seat left is Kuroko’s, by the time the Aomines sit down and Murasakibara is called. Earlier, they’d heard footsteps coming from the stairs, but they belong to a waiter who’d come to take their order sent by Murasakibara. Akashi cannot mistake Kuroko’s footsteps for anyone else’s, anyways, but a part of him _had_ been hoping.

“So they offered me this acting role, and it’s crazy, because I’ve never really acted much before. Something called Soleil? It sounds really cool, but I’m not sure. The role they offered me is Lynx, a phantom thief.”

“Well, Ki-chan does have a sort of cunning look to him, like a fox.”

“If Kise-chin were a youkai, he’d probably make a good kitsune. Didn’t he already have a photoshoot like that before?”

“Oh, yeah. I think actually looked pretty good in that one.”

Akashi becomes increasingly worried as the minutes pass by. At 8:20, Kuroko still hasn’t arrived.

Kise voices out his concerns about this. “Ne, Akashicchi, Kurokocchi usually texts people if he’s running late, right?”

Akashi confirms this, nodding and biting his lower lip, hard. A sort of tension settles in.  

Just when he is about to reach for his phone in his pocket and contact Kuroko, Midorima taps his shoulder.

“Kuroko texted me.” He informs him. His verdant eyes point to the cellphone he’s holding out to Akashi from under the table.

**From: Kuroko**

**Subject: -**

**Text: Midorima-kun, please tell the others that I’m on my way now. There was a delay with my job, but nothing too serious.**

**My sincerest apologies to everyone.**

Midorima looks up from the phone and clears his throat.

“Kuroko says he is on his way now, and that he apologizes for the delay.”

“Super,” Kise breathes out in relief, “We’re almost complete. I’m glad Kurokocchi could make it.”

“Mm!” Momoi smiles openly, beaming. “The last time we had a meet-up with Ki-chan, all of us together, Midorin couldn’t come.”

Midorima holds something out to Kise, who is across the table. Kise’s eyes widen in surprise upon seeing what seems to be... a bunny?

“Your lucky item for the day.” Midorima mumbles, “After closing the clinic, I went to the gift store and bought this. Geminis are in fifth place today.”

Midorima does not mention that Aquarius is last, or that Sagittarius is pretty close to Aquarius’ ranking.

“Wow, Midorimacchi...” Kise takes it and buries his chin into the white rabbit’s fluff, “This is really adorable! Thank you.”

“It’s my way of apologizing. I had an operation to perform that day, so I wasn’t exactly vacant.”

“Oh, we know, Midorimacchi. If anything, it’s the others that hold it against you. Not being able to come, that is.”

“It’s just a joke, Midorima,” Aomine says, “We know how busy you are.”

“How’s your manga coming along, Mine-chin?”

 “Oh, uh, my manga huh.” Aomine’s sort of surprised at the sudden interest in his work, “Well, it’s coming along. I’m glad I didn’t push through with the shoujo idea, I guess. I have Satsuki to thank for that.”

She glances at Aomine. “I’m glad I got to help. But seriously, Dai-chan, what made you want to write shoujo?”

“I watched Titanic, okay?!”

“Dai-chan, Titanic’s a cult classic! What do you mean you only watched it now?!”

 “Bunny!” Hiroaki exclaims, bursting into giggles amidst his parents’ banter. His expression turns into a pout, glaring at the mushrooms on the spoon hovering in front of him. Momoi turns to Akashi, setting down the spoon on Hiroaki’s plate with a soft ‘clack’ after noticing that Akashi is oddly silent. She shares a look with Aomine, and Aomine understands.

“Hey, Akashi.”

“Yes?”

“I’d really appreciate it if you or Tetsu could give suggestions or critique for the new manga I’m working on. Seriously, it would a big help - but, uh, you know, only if you guys have time. No pressure or anything.”

“We’d be happy to be of help, Daiki. We’ll see what we can do.”

Aomine clasps his hands together. “That’s really great, coming from you. Seriously, you guys are like my to-go muses, except for the fact that you’re, well, dudes.” He laughs.

The conversation picks up.

“I must say, Tetsuya and I always enjoy seeing what you come up with. Although weren’t you working on a mecha manga just recently? I suppose that one is what you’re speaking of?”

“Shoujo mecha?!” Kise exclaims, incredulous. “Aominecchi, what were you thinking?”

“Yeah, well,” Aomine scratches the back of his head, smiling sheepishly. “Not exactly.” His next words are directed at Kise, “And I’ll say it again because you weren’t listening. The shoujo idea and the mecha idea were totally separate ideas and had nothing to do with each other, okay? Nothing. Nada.”

He turns to Akashi again, “Remember how back when we were in college, Robato no Golf had an actual, concrete plot, but bad characters before I actually got to polish it?”

Akashi nods, recognizing the title of Aomine’s successful debut manga.

“That’s _exactly_ what happened with the mecha idea, except the world building effed me up too, so I dropped it and didn’t get to polishing at all.”

Aomine shakes his head, “Now I’m trying my hands at a hero-centric Universe. Villains and all that stuff are in there too. Forget about me - how are you and Tetsu doing these days?”

“We get by.” He replies, watching as Momoi and Aomine’s hands join together, “A lot of Tetsuya’s time is taken up by filming, but we don’t forget to check up on each other from time to time.”

A seed of doubt worms its way into Akashi’s train of thought. They always do seem to be ‘just fine’ these days, although a lot of missing each other is involved. There is no doubt that right now, Kuroko is having the very same thoughts too. Akashi does not deny that he has his own share of frustrations regarding the amount of time taken by his own line of work.

People usually ask if they are doing fine. When the answer is given, no one actually prods any further. It’s just generally accepted that yes, they are fine, and yes, they’ll find ways - because he and Kuroko always seem to do.

“I bet Aominecchi can’t ask the questions he usually asks because Hirocchi’s here.”

Aomine ruffles his son’s hair. “Have to maintain a good impression after all, hm?”

“I’m sorry I’m late.”

Aomine, whose seat faces the stairs, raises a glass. “Our MVP is here!”

Kuroko stands straighter and musters a smile. “Hello, everyone.”

 “Tetsu-kun!”/”Kurokocchi!”

Kise stands up and nuzzles Kuroko. The scent of men’s cologne pervades Kuroko’s senses. Still, the hug itself is innocent, something they have always done from way back.

“It’s good to see that you’re doing well, Kise-kun.”

“I am, because Kurokocchi’s here! Actually,” He gently holds Kuroko by the shoulders from behind, “There’s someone else who feels the exact same way I do.”

Everyone falls into a hush when Kuroko’s eyes meet Akashi’s.

His smile drops when he can’t but let his mouth hang open in surprise, seeing a familiar mop of red hair in the array of colours.

“Akashi-kun...” He breathes shakily, somehow managing to make himself say the words, feeling himself unwind while walking over to sit beside his significant other.

Akashi holds out his hand and touches Kuroko’s, feels through it like they always do when in the company of others. His heterochromatic eyes are warm shades under the lamplight. The rest go about their own thing, with the not so secret intention of letting the couple have their own time together, after spending many days not actually seeing each other face to face.

“You’re wearing glasses.” Akashi blinks, taking in the sight of his beloved. “Since when?”

“That’s the first thing you say?” Kuroko offers a small smile with Murasakibara and turns to look at Akashi again, “The eye doctor said that I will have to wear glasses from now on. I’ve been having difficulties lately. These glasses are the wrong grade.”

“And you never thought to tell me?”

“It never came up. I missed you, you know. You didn’t tell me you’d be back so early.”

“I didn’t expect it myself.” Akashi’s thumb brushes over the wedding band. “My father’s previous engagement was cancelled.”

Kuroko looks up from Akashi’s wedding band, up at him through the lens of his glasses.

“We have a lot to catch up on, don’t we?”

Kuroko nods, agreeing. “And we can take our time, for once.” Suddenly, his stomach rumbles.

Akashi pats Kuroko’s hand and lets go, deciding to give him some space. He looks like he needs it.

Kuroko is secretly thankful for this.

“Let’s get you something to eat.”

“Yeah.”

* * *

 

“We all met today because of me, so I should pay.”

“No, no, it’s on us! Right, Dai-chan?”

“Besides, Kise, if you follow that logic, then Tetsu would have to pay too.”

“I guess...” Kise crosses his arms. “It’s such a shame that Aominecchi turned so much smarter after marrying Momocchi. Also, no Murasakibaracchi,” Kise stops a hand reaching for the bill with impressive reflex, “ _You_ paying is out of the question.”

Murasakibara doesn’t withdraw his hand.

“Hey! I always had it in me!” Aomine shoots back.

“Such a ruckus.” Midorima uses the chance to make his hand reach across the table, take the bill, and look at it.

Akashi nudges Kuroko, a gleam in his eyes. “I guess you can say they’re ‘much ado about nothing’.” [1]

Kuroko groans at seeing Akashi’s scrutinize his due reaction to the joke. “Akashi-kun, no.”

“We can just split it like we always do.” Midorima says after a short pause.

“But math is soooo hard!” Kise whines. “And tiring.”

Midorima sighs. “Then I’ll do it.”

“I like math.” Hiroaki confesses. “Is that weird?”

“It’s not, Hiro-kun.” Kuroko says.

“Do you like math, Uncle Blue?”

Kuroko bites his lip, trying to conceal his smile. “...Well.” He looks to Akashi for help.

“I do.” Akashi says in Kuroko’s stead, “You’re not alone, Hiroaki. Right, Shintarou?”

“I wouldn’t say I particularly like it, but I don’t mind it.”

“Ohhh, Midorimacchi’s treating all of us? That’s so rare!”

“Yes. It is, isn’t it?”

Midorima doesn’t comment that it’s apparently okay if _he_ pays for everyone. He grabs his phone when it suddenly buzzes.

**From: Akashi**

**Subject: -**

**Message: Hand me the bill, Shintarou.**

He replies by typing a quick ‘no’. He receives another message shortly after.

**From: Kuroko**

**Subject: The bill**

**Message: I agree with Akashi-kun.**

Midorima squints at Kuroko’s error in kanji, which rarely ever happens. Then again, it’s probably because he typed quickly.

When he’s done with the math, it’s decided that they all split as usual. Akashi and Kuroko exchange a smile when Midorima glares in their direction.

Murasakibara chomps down the last bonbon. “Mido-chin, you’ll get wrinkles.”

“... I already have them, I’m sure. Honestly, you people never change.”

He keeps a watchful eye out for Kuroko for the rest of the night.

He sees the careless handling of a fork, the slightest wobble in steps, and the occasional pauses in speech. Add to the fact that Kuroko’s eyesight has considerably gone worse, he has to talk it over with Akashi.

It is hard to bring it up though, seeing everyone so happy.

 ~~~

They all part ways after that, unsure when they’ll all get to meet up again. Hiroaki groggily bids goodbye to his ‘uncles’.

“Thank you so much for the cap again... Uncle Red...” His head bobs up and down, and Akashi bends down to fix the cap and make eye contact with Hiroaki.

“You’re always welcome. I trust you to take good care of it.”

“Yeah!” He says cheerfully, taking his mother and father’s hands, a wide grin on his face. In times like these, he truly does resemble Aomine in their younger days.

“Good luck with your manga, Aomine-kun.”

“Got it. Make sure to rest up, Tetsu.”

When the taxi speeds away, disappearing into the distance, Akashi takes Kuroko’s hand and asks him if he wants to go anywhere in particular.

“I just want to go home.”

Akashi smiles at the mention of ‘home’.

“Home it is, then.”

The thing about Murasakibara’s café, The Purple Lotus, is that it’s within walking distance from Akashi and Kuroko’s home. Akashi had gone to their home first after his flight landed, before walking to The Purple Lotus. Now, faced with the view of a bay and the chilly night breeze dampening their cheeks, Kuroko leans into Akashi’s shoulder as they take relaxed steps on the bridge’s walkway.

“The stars are prettier when I see them with you.”

The look in Kuroko’s eyes softens. “Funny, because I was just thinking the exact same thing as you were.”

Akashi brings Kuroko’s hand to his lips and kisses it. There is longing in his eyes, a craving for solace that they have always found in each other, even after all these years.

Kuroko blurts out the words before he can even think.

“When I saw you with Hiro-kun, I envisioned us having a family.”

“...It’s not impossible.” Akashi says eventually, reassuringly. Their careers have always stopped them from adopting a child, particularly because none of them had felt truly ready regarding the matter of adoption. Akashi has to wonder how many times this has crossed Kuroko’s mind. Kuroko has always been fond of children, after all, but they both know it is different. It is different because they are Akashis, and the true responsibility that comes with it is not quite the same as that of others.

“We can still make it happen, Tetsuya. You know you don’t have to take my father’s words to heart.”

Kuroko’s eyes are somewhere else, in some other time. “He refused to acknowledge you unless you provided him with an heir.”

Something else is brought to mind.

“There is something I haven’t told you yet.”

Kuroko squeezes his hand gently. “What is it?”

“It’s about my father’s offer.”

Kuroko, meanwhile, focuses on how serious Akashi seems to be. Contrary to the usual mention of Akashi’s father, though, it doesn’t seem like Akashi is feeling too uneasy about what he’s about to reveal.

“He’s planning on making me president of the Akashi Conglomerate very soon, on the condition that I adopt a child.”

Upon seeing Kuroko silently taking it in, Akashi continues, the stream of words flowing through his mouth not at all like how he envisioned them to be. They are exactly the same as what they had been in his mind, but there is a surge of emotion that even he himself does not expect that comes with them. The words are stronger because he feels so strongly about him, all the more so because he is with Kuroko.

“I will have more control over my schedule, will leave certain tasks to whoever I deem fit, and... have more time to spend with you. For us.”

“Akashi-kun, that’s amazing. I’m really happy for you.” It shows in the smile that he flashes Akashi’s way, and Akashi wants to preserve this moment. “If that’s what’ll happen... I want to do my best for the child too.”

“I couldn’t have gotten this far without you, Tetsuya.”

Kuroko kisses him on the cheek, the city lights behind them. “The same could be said for you, _Sei.”_

The idea of having a family is of a great joy for the both of them.

After having crossed the entire length of the bridge, they pass familiar shops along the way. A few of the stalls are closing, but for the most part, piping hot food can still be seen displayed at the storefront. He and Kuroko receive some greetings from a few store owners, and while they attract the attention of onlookers, it’s just not enough to suddenly burst the bubble of tranquillity shared by Akashi and Kuroko.

A few people actually approach Kuroko, asking for his autograph. Akashi observes fondly, hearing them sing praise about his husband. One such teen approaches them quite timidly, even going as far as to asking for Akashi’s permission to have a moment with Kuroko, to which Akashi says that it’s alright.

“I find you really inspiring, Kuroko-san.” The teenage girl says while Kuroko is signing her notebook, “Someday, I hope to make a career out of acting too. Umm, is there any advice you can give? Thank you again... this just feels very surreal, getting to meet you and Akashi-san like this up close... I’m really glad I decided to go out for a walk.”

Kuroko looks at her carefully, before adding something at the bottom of the autograph - a personal message that actually takes a while to write, short as it may be. When she gets ahold of the notebook and reads through the words, she walks away after a last ‘thank you’, looking like she’s been given the world.

They start walking again, closer to home now.

“What did you write?”

Kuroko smiles cryptically. “Just some things that might help.”

It strikes as a big surprise to Akashi that Kuroko doesn’t say anything when they pass by the bookstore. Kuroko usually clasps his hand at the idea of a bookstore, but that night, when he asks Kuroko whether or not he’d like to take a look, Kuroko just shakes his head for an answer.

Reaching home, they use Akashi’s key and enter, leaving their shoes next to each other’s at the doorway. He hopes that Kuroko will like what he bought for him in Singapore. He’s pretty sure that he will, though it can also be owed to the fact that Kuroko is appreciative about nearly everything he receives.

“I told my agent I wouldn’t be accepting projects for a while.” Kuroko says while taking off his shirt. Akashi hangs his coat on the rack.

He understands what it means, that Kuroko is willing to prioritize what they have planned, that Kuroko is willing to take the next step together with him. He does agree that it’s what’s best for Kuroko, because he of all people is well aware of what Kuroko feels when away from the prying lenses of the camera.

“We don’t have to rush into it.” Akashi says, pulling off his necktie.

"Mm." Kuroko, stark naked, heads for the comfort room, stifling a yawn.

“I’m going to take a shower.”

Akashi nods. Kuroko doesn’t offer him to join in, which is definitely strange. Still, Akashi decides it’s best to ask about these things later. He knows that Kuroko likes taking long showers.

He listens to the lull of the shower water sounding from afar while changing into his own clothes, a black sleeping robe. Opening the lamp at their bedside, he grabs for the remote and turns on the TV. Eyes dulled after seeing a sitcom with dry humour flashing on the newly opened screen, he flicks to the international news channel.

Later on, Kuroko emerges with a bath towel on his damp hair, wearing his pyjamas from the night before that can still be used again. They had been bought some few years ago, and it wasn’t as if Kuroko grew any bigger or taller since then. It is a Gudetama shirt with matching white pants, a caption of “five more minutes” written atop the lazy egg in English.

He joins Akashi on the bed.

“The bombings are growing more frequent.” He looks down to his fingers, splayed atop his lap. “It didn’t seem like this when we were younger.”

Akashi’s eyes stray from the screen, fingers streaking through Kuroko’s wet, sky blue locks.

“It wasn’t,” He confirms, eyes drooping slightly while opening his phone to see who the new message is from.

“Who is it?” Kuroko asks.

**Midorima, 11:00 P.M.: Akashi, has Kuroko been showing signs of odd behaviour?**

Akashi has to keep his brows from furrowing upon seeing the question.

“It’s Shintarou. Give me a second.”

Kuroko watches Akashi get off of the bed and walk towards the window. His husband’s countenance has changed significantly since getting the text. He can’t exactly tell though, because Akashi always does seem to treat text messages with a business-like air, regardless of who they may be from. There is a stiffness to his expression that Kuroko cannot quite place.

**Akashi, 11:03 P.M.: I trust you to always ask these questions for a reason. I suspect this is a result of your observations from dinner. I did notice you looking at Tetsuya, you know.**

Kuroko turns off the TV. The room is silent, save for the ringtone of Akashi’s phone.

**Midorima, 11:04 P.M.: You know as much as I do that something is wrong. I wish to see Kuroko as soon as possible in my clinic.**

“Akashi-kun?”

“It’s alright, Tetsuya. I just need to take care of this.”

Reluctantly, Kuroko leans back onto the soft cushion. Akashi looks at him for a second, his expression seemingly carved from stone, shadows dancing under the cascading moonbeams.

**Akashi, 11:05 P.M.: Shintarou, you are a neurologist. I hardly see why this would fall under your area of expertise, and while I trust your judgement, you have to tell me what specific concern compelled you to actually want to see Tetsuya.**

**I will be going back to Tetsuya now. Worry not, I will make time and join him to see you tomorrow. Expect us in the afternoon.**

Akashi closes his phone, and joins Kuroko again. Midorima’s message, as promised, remains unseen by the couple who, after days of not being able to spend time together, waste no further time in whispering sweet nothings to each other.

**Midorima, 11:10 P.M.: Akashi, what do you know about early onset Alzheimer’s?**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] A reference to Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing.  
> Patients of early onset-Alzheimer's may experience vision loss and difficulty in motor abilities as early symptoms. Vision loss is said to be one of the most common. Pls don't ask why the ophthalmologist was off about her predictions though aaaaaaaaaaa  
> I'm still screaming at how accurate phantomhive12's guess was tho :o and Pryzmat too. BOTH WERE VERY GOOD GUESSES AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH TO EVERYONE WHO READ, REVIEWED, and LEFT KUDOS. ;__;


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not a 'what-if' anymore - not even a looming possibility - but something that's close to being realized as true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: I just finished reading Kokoro by Natsume Soseki recently and boyyyyy did it ruin my feelsssss ;w; It's the only Japanese literature book on my bookshelf so far. Not much copies of japanese lit here.  
> Fun fact 2: This trash author loves Lindsey Stirling. In fact, the title of this fic is taken from "Take Flight", one of her no-lyric songs.  
> As for those wondering why Natsume Soseki, it's canon that Kuroko likes Natsume Soseki.  
> Warning for this chapter: Inaccurate sequence of medical diagnosis. I did research, but I'm not all too sure if it's correct. I did try, but alas, my knowledge is limited.  
> Enjoy! :)

 ~~~ 

_ “Your arms around me tight, _

_ Everything had felt so right, _

_ Unbreakable, _

_ Like nothing could go wrong.” _

**_-Behind These Hazel Eyes, Kelly Clarkson_ **

~~~~

 

“Akashi-kun, where are we-"

Kuroko stops himself upon seeing the establishment in front of them. It’s strange, because he feels like its significance should strike as familiar, but he doesn’t establish the connection as quickly as he should. His eyes are searching, looking into Akashi’s which seem to be clouded with worry.

Akashi exhales, his breath a wisp in the winter air. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Tetsuya. Do you know where we are?”

“Is it... Midorima-kun?” Kuroko asks, unsure.

Akashi’s eyes widen. His fears seem to have been realized by Kuroko’s words. Kuroko wants to ask what Akashi is so afraid of, what Akashi is not telling him.

The place is undoubtedly a hospital - a very large one. He does recall something about Midorima messaging in the middle of the night. Worry takes the reins, and he ponders on what business they could possibly have come.

When Akashi nods, realization is stark in Kuroko’s features, like a flash of lightning.

“Akashi-kun, it really is unnecessary. I’m fine.” He shivers in discomfort, breathing behind his face mask. It is denial, perhaps, that what he has left unattended might be so serious as to warrant the consultation of Midorima, of all people.

“We’re here to see if you are.” Akashi tells him, a rare surge of emotion seeping into his voice. The car drives away for parking, leaving them alone at the entrance. The hold on his hand slackens, almost as if weakened. Akashi’s hand falls to his side. Kuroko knows what he’s thinking - Akashi is a child again, by the bedside of his mother writhing in pain.

He crushes the paper cup in his hand, lips thinning into a grim line. The bitter taste of black coffee lingers.  “I hate hospitals.”

“We’ll go home soon after this, or somewhere far from here.” Kuroko says, trying to stomach the fear worming into his heart, because Akashi is holding it together too. “Let’s go.”

They pass lots of people on waiting benches, coughing into their hands or holding a handkerchief to their mouths. Some have eyes, mirrors of the soul, that are aged, milky white and watery. Kuroko can feel himself wear out while passing what seems to be hundreds of them, huddled in close quarters.

When they enter, Midorima’s secretary requests for their name. Akashi replies with his name and they are told that they are third in line. Kuroko’s eyes travel to the various certificates and diplomas framed on the wall, including Midorima’s medical ventures in that of America and Africa. Akashi gently leads him along outside, where they sit in one of the waiting benches.

Akashi stays silent the entire time, and Kuroko doesn’t know how to pierce that silence. He had been convinced that he’d know what to say when it counted, but it’s harder than it sounds. He watches the other patients come and go. A child on the waiting bench opposite of them plays with her toy while beaming at her mother, who pats her head. The display of childish affection and innocence should bring nothing but happiness, but in that moment, seeing Akashi watch the exchange, Kuroko feels something pierce through his heart.

To comfort would be to intrude. It never feels right, comforting Akashi regarding things like family.

The patients that come out of Midorima’s clinic are mostly old people. There is one such case, wherein an elderly man on a wheelchair, pushed by a younger man who looks to be his son, is almost nearly desensitized, with a vague sense of knowing, harbouring the exact same milky white stare as the others. Kuroko is swallowed up by his own thoughts when after a time period of thirty minutes, they are finally called into the clinic.

Akashi wastes no time in standing up, opening the door for Kuroko. Kuroko thanks him. They are both led into a room, where Midorima can be seen looking through x-ray scans of brains.

“I was told you were here.” Midorima says by way of greeting, gesturing to the assortment of black cushioned chairs. “Do take a seat, both of you. Kuroko, I am to understand that you know why you’re here?”

“No. Akashi-kun didn’t tell me.”

Midorima eyes Akashi curiously. “Is that so?” Akashi meets the gaze without being fazed. He clears his throat, “Well then. Kuroko, I will be asking you some questions. Please do your best to answer as truthfully as possible. If you don’t know something, I will, of course, refer to Akashi, seeing as your parents are not with you at the moment. I do ask for cooperation from the both of you.”

“Of course.” Kuroko murmurs. He saves his own share of questions for later.

Midorima takes out a clipboard from a desk drawer and props it on his knee.

“So, Kuroko, do you recall ever being sick with something extremely heavy? It doesn’t matter how long it’s been. Anything is acceptable.”

Kuroko thinks about it with slight strain. His life has been smooth sailing for a while when sickness is concerned. “I... do recall contracting H1N1 in my middle school days, but the vaccine helped a lot with making the effects milder. For the recent years, I don’t think there’s anything at all... except for my sudden change in eyesight.”

Midorima nods, listing something down. He stops when Akashi speaks.

“Tetsuya has been showing signs of fatigue and difficulty with maintaining balance.”

“For how long?” He addresses Kuroko for this question.

“I... don’t really know. It only got worse two months ago, I think.”

“But you’re not sure?”

“The past months have been a blur... so I’m not.”

“Next question. Can you elaborate on your difficulties regarding balance? Is there anything that you are familiar with that you find difficult to do now?”

“Well... I suppose so. I have an adequate knowledge of kanji, but now... I find it hard to read things now, compared to before. During a recording for an anime, I couldn’t read most of it. That’s why the job ran late.” Kuroko’s cheeks flush, “I don’t understand it myself. Just a day before that, I was doing fine while filming and... I felt hopeless.” He blinks back frustrated tears, his throat parched, “I didn’t know what to do.”

Midorima continues listening, struggling with keeping his face straight. He has dealt with numerous patients before, but it is different to hear it from a friend. He has never heard Kuroko talk like this. Akashi has, but he doesn’t fare any better than Midorima when faced with this information.   

“For the times I’m falling, it’s... not really tripping over something. It’s suddenly going off balance and finding difficulty in standing still because the world sort of spins... sometimes - or a lot - and I have to be reminded of things from time to time. The reason why I texted you instead of Momoi-san was that I considered telling you these things... but I forgot about it eventually.”

“Do any of your parents have any diseases inherited within the family, or any record of major illnesses at all?”

Kuroko recalls asking his parents these questions from a long time ago - not knowing at what time period of time exactly, but it’s undoubtedly something that has happened. “No... both my father and mother are perfectly healthy."

“Akashi.”

Akashi looks nothing short of bewildered. He doesn’t seem like he wants to hear any of it. If he had the option to walk out of the room and be alone, he probably would. Kuroko can’t face him. This isn’t going well.

“I will need your help for the next set of questions. I need you to talk to Kuroko and ask him questions about details that could pass as significant, but are not often thought about.”

After a long pause, Akashi’s fingers are no longer interlocked with each other. Kuroko turns his chair to his direction.

“Tetsuya,” Akashi swallows, feeling bile rise up his throat. “Where did we go on our honeymoon?”

“Italy.” Tetsuya replies with ease. “We went to Verona too.”

“Who wrote my favourite novel?”

Akashi watches closely as Kuroko seems to be deep in thought. He notices that Kuroko is starting to realize it too, why he’s here. It slams both of them like a bucket of cold water.

“Akashi-kun...”

Akashi feels himself spiralling into a deep abyss. “Just answer me, Tetsuya.”

“I... I don’t know.” Kuroko sounds shocked himself. He shakes his head vigorously, not able to look Akashi in the eye. “I don’t know.”

“Tetsuya, it’s okay,” And _Akashi wants to believe that too,_ but it’s worse than he could have possibly imagined. “I’m not mad. Ah, you love Natsume Soseki’s major works. Try reciting all the titles one by one with me. Five of them.”

“Kokoro, Sanshiro... Kusamakura, Bocchan, and...: I Am A Cat.”

It takes two minutes to get that out of Kuroko’s lips. Akashi lets out a shaky breath.

“What was the name of your dog?”

The mention of his dog warms him inside. “Nigou.”

“But who named him?”

Kuroko looks at Akashi, confused. “... I’m pretty sure I did. You let me name him because you saw Nigou was abandoned at the time, and figured that I would take care of him.”

Kuroko knows from Akashi’s expression that it’s the wrong answer.

Midorima shuffles in his seat. “How much of that is true, Akashi?”

“It’s true that I saw Nigou abandoned at the roadside, but... the one who named Nigou was Ryouta. How much do you remember about that, Tetsuya? Can you try?”

Everything hurts.

“I... I can’t.”

“There must be something.”

Kuroko's eyes become glassy. “If there was, I’d tell you.”

“Alright, Akashi, that’s enough.” Midorima says, standing up from his seat. “I’ll take it from here.”

Akashi retreats, wearily watching as Midorima opens a cabinet and comes back with a series of boards and flash cards.

After several kanji readings, counting exercises, and simple evaluations, Midorima conclusively sets down his clipboard.

“It’s not as bad as I thought. There is a high chance, however, that Kuroko does have dementia - specifically, early-onset Alzheimer’s.”

Kuroko’s head whips to Akashi. Nothing could have prepared him for this, yet the mere fact that Akashi had known of this from the former evening shakes him to the core. It doesn’t even matter now, because Akashi doesn’t bother to hide his distress. Even Midorima looks discomfited, disclosing this news.

It is the stuff of novels, Kuroko acknowledges, that of life being gone in the blink of an eye. There are narratives made by people who newly embrace and have to bear with the knowledge of having to die very soon - and none of it is fiction. It is often put very prettily, ephemerally, even - but to no less an extent does Kuroko look at the world in a changed way. It is with the knowledge that there is a chance that someday, he will be reduced to a shadow of his former self.

It is with the knowledge that others will know, and that nothing will ever be the same.

“I won’t say it’s set in stone yet. For all we know, it could simply be mild cognitive impairment, which does have chances of dwindling or completely stabilizing over time. You will have to undergo other tests to see if there are other root causes, before we can reach a proper conclusion. It goes without saying that... you will have to prepare for the worst. I think you are aware of how serious Alzheimer’s really is, and how progressively worse it gets with time. Let’s hope it’s not that.”

Midorima lists down the tests that are required on a prescription paper and holds entrusts it to Kuroko.

When Kuroko and Akashi leave, Midorima finds himself heavy-hearted while meeting with the next patient, who cruelly enough, has a case similar to Kuroko’s.

It is a frustrating disease. It is even more frustrating for a doctor like Midorima that it will be years before a cure is found.

* * *

 

The schedules of the tests are scattered slightly from each other. Akashi makes time for all of them - their life seems to have reached a standstill, because every interaction they have is awkward. Several nights are spent sleepless, but Akashi is eventually able to convince Kuroko to sleep.

Kuroko does. He can’t pretend to be asleep, because if he opens his eyes just once, he can see that Akashi isn’t asleep either, instead closely watching him with an expression of longing. He doesn’t miss how one night, Akashi decides to consume a few sleeping pills just to be able to sleep. It’s for both of them, because both can’t truly rest without thinking about the other.

It’s scary, because all the other tests have shown no sign of having any relation to Kuroko’s current symptoms. The truth is close to revealing itself, but perhaps it already has.

On the day of the neurological exam, they have Kuroko do all sorts of things in the examination room, testing his reflexes, coordination, muscle strength, eye movement, speech, and sensation. It takes two solid hours. The results are encased in a brown envelope, and Kuroko thanks them before walking outside to meet with Akashi.

Hope is scarce.

They will have to tell Kuroko’s parents soon. _They_ will be the first to know, because their presence is required in their next appointment with Midorima, which is in two days. After that, it will have to be with Yuta, Kuroko’s agent. Kuroko might not make it to Paper Cranes promotion, and the thought saddens him. He will have to say goodbye to acting, no matter what becomes of him after this.

Midorima, out of Kuroko’s request, hasn’t told anyone yet. It remains confidential, spoken of only within the four walls of the clinic.

Kuroko thinks that he is still functioning as well as could be, capable of registering bits of information.  That’s why he tells Akashi not to hesitate with anything (because next time, he will have to. Because next time, Kuroko may not be able to talk properly anymore).

“Let’s buy take-out.”

“Yes.” It is only one word, but it speaks for how Akashi has been acting the past few days. Kuroko does not blame him at all. He thinks, that it is a good time to bring up what’s been on his mind for so long, going through one test after another.

“I’m sure it’s crossed your mind, Akashi-kun.” He closes his eyes, “Wondering about whether things would have been better if you hadn’t met me.”

Akashi makes no sign of agreeing with the statement.

“I have no intentions of letting go, Tetsuya, unless that is what you wish.”

Akashi looks at him, the question in his eyes being: ‘will you be willing to do that?’, almost as if a challenge. And the answer is no, because Kuroko knows that it will have the reverse effect - that it will hurt Akashi to have their bond severed, more than it can help. Above all, he does not want to let Akashi go, because deep down, he’s scared of being alone, scared of the possibility of living on without anyone to remind him of all that had been wonderful about better times.

“I thought you would say that,” Kuroko says, “But, if you think you can, please don’t hesitate, Akashi-kun.”

“Don’t even think for one second that I can, Tetsuya,” Akashi says, not unkindly, “I promised to stay by your side till the end. I intend to keep that promise, not out of obligation, but out of my own free will.”

“That’s comforting.” Kuroko closes the distance between them, till they are sharing the same space, “But that doesn’t mean I’m less sorry.”

“I know. It’s okay.”

“I want to spare you the pain.”

“This pain is worth it,” Akashi sounds sure of himself, this time, “There are some people who are worth the pain.” He flashes a pained, reserved smile at Kuroko.

“This might sound strange, but sometimes, I wish you would cry too.”

It would sound like an offensive request for some, but Akashi knows what Kuroko means.

_You don’t have to hide anything._

And for Akashi, it means everything.

“There are other ways to show grievance and anguish,” Akashi says, “But you are one of the people I would weep for, Tetsuya.” He wraps his arms around Kuroko’s waist, breathing in his familiar scent, “You already knew that.”

Akashi has learned many lessons since meeting Kuroko.

A lesson from before he met Kuroko is that tears do not have the power to grant wishes.

And that-

In this world, miracles do not exist.

* * *

 

“I haven’t gotten around to opening your present yet.”

“Present?”

Kuroko lifts the paper bag up. “The one from Singapore. Is it okay if I...?”

They’ve been so caught up in recent events, that no one thought of bringing the present up at all. Akashi bites his lip, his face scrunching up.

“Tetsuya, maybe it’s better if you don’t-“

Tetsuya hesitates, a question in his eyes. Akashi stays silent, because the small box has already been taken out of the bag.

Kuroko pulls at the gold ribbon and lifts the lid. Inside it is a Risis Orchid [1] plated in gold, but instead of being an earring or necklace, it is hook-shaped - gold beads dangling from strings - suitable for bookmarking. There is no doubt that it is custom-made, and would sell for quite a price. Kuroko examines it closely, feeling tears brim in his eyes.

“I’m happy.” He murmurs.

Akashi’s head hangs low.  “It’s not an appropriate gift, Tetsuya.” Kuroko lets out a soft laugh, but it immediately leaves him when he realizes why Akashi is so frustrated about the gift in the first place.

He starts to choke up, remembering the kanji reading in the examination room. Wrong, wrong, wrong, _wrong._

“You don’t need to be so hard on yourself, Akashi-kun,” He wipes his tears with the back of his hand, “You didn’t know. _We_ didn’t know.”

“Maybe I should have, Tetsuya. Maybe I would have known. If I had, I wouldn’t have been so distant.”

The bookmark is placed back into the box.

“It never felt like that.” Kuroko whispers, his featherlike touch grazing Akashi’s cheeks. “We have to stop blaming ourselves.”

Akashi, at that moment, looks like a lost child. “I would have come for you.”

“I know you would have.” He brings Akashi’s head to his shoulder, till it is buried there, smothered in warmth. “Someday, I won’t be able to read anymore - won’t be able to walk. I may not even be able to form words properly, as is often the case. Still, I’m keeping the bookmark.” Their eyes meet, “Do you know why, Akashi-kun?”

“No.”

“Because every gift you give me is a memory, something to remember you by. Every remaining day that I have and every minute I spend knowing that you’re mine, and that I’m yours - it’s a gift. So don’t ever think you weren’t enough, Akashi-kun. You’re here now, and that’s all that matters.”

Finally, it seems, the world has caught up to Akashi, because in front of Kuroko, he is just tired. Kuroko doesn’t expect Akashi to say, “I’ll have to talk to my father about this. He has to know.”

Kuroko is more or less relieved that the determination has returned in Akashi’s eyes, small spark as it may be. His stomach churns when he thinks about his own parents finding out. He and Akashi have set out to tell them all about it tomorrow.

“I’m coming with you when you tell your father, Akashi-kun.”

“Tetsuya, no. It will only cause complications. What I mean to say is-“

A long sigh escapes Akashi’s lips.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you since this afternoon. While I do want to keep you away from my father as much as possible, it... can’t be avoided.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know about how we will be moving into your parents’ house?”

Kuroko nods.

"If ever the media or potentially, the stalkers,” Akashi grits his teeth, “-Pose a nuisance, I plan to propose the idea of having you and your parents move into the Tokyo estate, and only because I know your parents won’t stand with having to move so far away from here, else, we would be moving to the Kyoto estate. Of course, I’m not pressuring you into this, but... it is the only way I can properly protect you.”

Of course. His stalkers had always managed to know where his family home was too, and Kuroko’s memory does reach the most recent stalker case he’s had. While he’s not against the idea, it does sadden him to know that if it comes down to it, he can’t stay in his parents’ home, or that maybe, his parents won’t get to stay with him.

“I’m sure mother and father will understand.”

“I’ll say it as many times as I need to, Tetsuya.” Akashi says, “I will do my best to protect you.”

“Masaomi-san will not hurt me. You know that.”

“I’m never sure what my father will do. I won’t let him lay a finger on you, though.” He squeezes Kuroko’s hand, “You have my word.”

“You resemble a fairy tale prince sometimes, Akashi-kun.” His eyes travel to the wedding band on Akashi’s ring finger. “When you say things like that.”

“I even have a white horse to come with it,” Akashi jokes, then correcting himself. “Or at least, I had one, once.”

It’s Kuroko’s turn to bury his head in Akashi’s chest. “I’m sure you miss him.”

Akashi shakes his head, but it’s not denial about how he misses Yukimaru. “I miss a lot of things.” He says, standing. “You should sleep, Tetsuya. I’ll go get a glass of water.”

Kuroko doesn’t stop Akashi. Instead, he lies down on the bed, grabbing his phone and scrolling down his instagram feed. There are lots of beautiful things - floral arrangements, lettering, even animals. Seeing dogs just reminds him of Nigou, and things are never the same after the passing on of a pet. A friend.

He and Kise’s posts are generally more limited than before, considering how a single post can easily give away their locations within a certain period of time. That’s not to say they’re completely inactive though. Kuroko lies low for now, not having the urge to like Kise’s most recent vlog because Kise’s sure to see it and message him, because the moment he does like the post, it’s like saying he’s not busy.

And while he’s not busy, what he does need is time alone. Normally, Kise’s happiness and upbeat nature in his posts is contagious, but somehow, Kuroko finds himself disconnected. It’s disconcerting, to say the least.

Akashi enters the room with a glass of lukewarm water in his hand. Carefully, he hands it over to Kuroko, who sits up and brings his lips to the rim of the glass.

He clears his throat, watching the water swirl in the glass. “Be careful with the sleeping pills, Akashi-kun.”

Akashi’s head whips to his direction. He freezes in his spot before his shoulders droop slightly.

“Are you having difficulties sleeping, Tetsuya?”

Kuroko looks at Akashi, slightly admonishing. “This is about you.”

“Is it...” Akashi trails off, looking Kuroko in the eye. “Can I kiss you, Tetsuya?”

Kuroko sighs mockingly, putting the glass of water aside. It is so like Akashi to be deflective. It must be hard. Kuroko understands this.

“If I do, do you promise you’ll try to sleep?”

“It’ll make it easier, perhaps.” Akashi concedes, “To sleep, I mean.”

“Come here, then.”

 Their lips meet. Kuroko is lying down now, with Akashi on top of him. He can see Akashi’s red lashes tremble. Kuroko closes his eyes, letting himself be driven by the pleasure with Akashi leading him along. Everything they do is with a renewed sense of purpose. The kiss is fleeting, but both of them want it to last. It’s alright to do this in the comforts of their own home, where no one else can see.

Akashi sucks in a breath, brushing Kuroko’s bangs back and planting a kiss on his forehead. “I missed this.”

“I did too.”

“Sweet dreams, Tetsuya.”

“Yes. Good night, Akashi-kun.”

In their own way, they have their own little infinity too. [2]

Kuroko does not want to watch the sun rise. It is tempting, in fact, to just dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Risis Orchid: an expensive, popular souvenir in Singapore. I only found out about them recently. They're gorgeous *^* we will also pretend that they can be custom-made into other stuff. uvu //slapped  
> [2] Line inspired by a quote in The Fault in Our Stars by John Green.  
> Next chapter: Kuroko Katsuhiro has something important to tell Akashi.  
> I'm sure there are lots of questions as to what Akashi is feeling about all this. Rest assured, future chapters will cover that. Everything is kept purposely vague for now. We're barely scratching the surface ;D  
> THANK YOU FOR READING!!! <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With how far they've come in life, blood ties are not needed to call themselves a family, and the close proximity of their lives will inevitably lead to shared burdens.  
> Only a matter of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this fic is officially back??? XDDD //comes out of burrow  
> Hello everyone! Very recently, this fic came to haunt me again. I never actually abandoned it, but I kind of was... afraid of it? After chapter 3, I lost confidence in myself to do this fic justice. In the time between chapter 3 and 4, I planned a massive multichap that I lost confidence in too (I actually reached chapter 4 for that one? lol). And many other stories in between. But I guess this is just a story that is begging to be told. So it's back! To give others an idea, this was last updated June 2017.  
> The bad news is that I'm in my last year of high school this June and so I'll be even busier than ever and ENTRANCE EXAMSSSS YOOOOO HAHAHAHA .... ha.... :((((  
> I will do my best to see this fic through till the end. There is much in store for AkaKuro and the GoM.  
> Enjoy!

~~~ 

Chapter 4:

_ “Where do we go, oh, _

_ When our prayers are answered, _

_ Where do we go, oh, _

_ When our prayers are answered, _

_ But the answer is no?” _

**_\- Where Do We Go, Lindsey Stirling_ **

~~~ 

_ Sixteen years ago _

_“Excuse me.”_

_The voice is addressing him._

_“Could I have a moment of your time, Akashi-san?”_

_It’s no question as to who he is. Akashi Seijuro, freshman in Tokyo University and heir to the Akashi line of companies, student in Todai’s Economics Faculty and top-scorer in the entrance exams. That’s not to say he doesn’t recognize the blue-haired boy in front of him - in fact, he vaguely remembers encountering him back in his days as a high schooler. He doubts, after all, that he could forget the fire blazing in those icy blue eyes._

_Akashi’s gaze scrutinizes Kuroko Tetsuya. What could the boy possibly want from him?_

_“I’m sorry,” Kuroko bows, “I haven’t properly introduced myself, yet I just casually approached you. My name is-“_

_“Kuroko Tetsuya,” He nods in acknowledgement. Kuroko seems taken aback that Akashi even knows him, but it is fact that Akashi has to keep track of the various members of student organizations within campus grounds, being the official president-elect of Todai’s collective student body. “Don’t look so surprised.” He says dismissively, “I have reason to believe that you are in the wrong building?”_

_Kuroko is quick to collect himself. “No, I... as a matter of fact, I came looking for you, Akashi-san. I know it’s none of my business, but it’s actually about this.”_

_Akashi’s eyes regard the copy of a monthly edition of their middle school magazine, a product of the efforts of The Writing Body. It’s turned to a page featuring a short story, written by a writer requesting anonymity._

_It would make sense, perhaps, for Kuroko to know who had written it in the first place._

_“You wrote this.” Kuroko says._

_“Yes, I did.” Akashi says matter-of-factly, maintaining level eye contact. “What of it?”_

_“I just wanted to say your work is inspiring. I’ve been an avid follower for a while, and wanted to know whether or not you still write things.”_

_Akashi doesn’t even hitch when he answers. “Writing is a pastime, one which I no longer possess the luxury of having. You approach me and bring up something that is clearly of the past, something that I no longer concern myself with, as you very well know because I have my own priorities and obligations. So, what do you have to say for yourself, Kuroko Tetsuya?”_

_“I apologize,” Kuroko says sincerely, knowing he has crossed the line - but he makes no move to leave, his feet planted firmly on the ground. “I did not mean any offense.”_

_He scoffs inwardly. “Of course you didn’t. Your manner is not offending, but I do wonder how much nerve it takes to bring this up.”_

_“Quite a lot, I assure you.” Kuroko laughs, in light of the mention of the amount of nerves that is required. Akashi takes it as him being aware of what this looks to be. Kuroko’s face turns serious again. “-Although, there is something I have to disagree with regarding what you just said, Akashi-san. About your writing, that is.”_

_“Oh?” Akashi arches an eyebrow at Kuroko. This development amuses him, but Kuroko’s serious expression remains. “Do enlighten me, then.”_

_“It is easy to tell that it was written by someone who loved writing, most likely to the degree of passion. Even the stories that came after had signs of it, although Akashi-san is right, I may only be making assumptions. Seeing you right now, I know that it was presumptuous of me to even think of doing this.”_

_“Yes,” His eyes narrow into slits, “It was. It is even more contradictory that you are, in fact, an aspiring journalist. The subjectivity of your comment towards me is ironic, and not something I would have expected out of you of all people. Then again, this is not for an article, is it? Because if it is, I will have to cut our conversation short. That’s not to say I won’t entertain the thought, though.”_

_Kuroko’s eyes widen a fraction, hearing Akashi’s words._

_“I don’t mean the article.”_

_Akashi continues._

_“I am certain that there is a more personal reason that you approached me, something relating to personal frustration. This may be assuming of me, of course. I do not know you very well, but it is my job to try and see through people, a useful skill for the business world.” Upon seeing Kuroko’s changed expression, it is unquestionable that he is on point, “So yes, I will say this: I did love writing, and perhaps I still do. It is a medium wherein I can let my thoughts flow freely. That being said, I do have to leave now, considering that’s all I have to say about the matter until further notice.”_

_“Akashi-san...”_

_He closes his eyes, opens them again, and he all he sees is blue, blue, blue, an indelible impression amongst hundreds of hopefuls._

_“Good day.”_

_Kuroko watches Akashi walk away, like the many times before that. Watching that familiar back, he smiles._

_It is a promise, and the first step to something much, much bigger - far bigger than both of them know._

* * *

 

Kuroko wakes up earlier than Akashi expects him to. He hadn’t actually thought that Kuroko would be awake at around 9:00 in the morning, but he is - no longer with a bedhead but still in pyjamas. He actually looks surprised to see Akashi already dressed in clothes for going out - he takes in his husband’s form, in a suit that makes for quite the sight in the morning.

Akashi’s back is turned to Kuroko, and when he rubs his eyes, that’s the time he realizes that there is a different-coloured strap tied to Akashi’s back and the sound of sizzling in a pan.

Kuroko is about to wrap his arms around Akashi’s waist, but Akashi expects it, turning off the stove fire.

“Good morning, Tetsuya.”

“Good morning,” Kuroko doesn’t really look at where his lips fall, they just happen to land on Akashi’s. Akashi’s sharp features come into focus. He looks much better, after having a natural, good night sleep, not looking the least bit disturbed.

A sudden pang hits him, because he used to join Akashi for the mornings. Their schedules don’t always go well together, but it had been such a natural thing in their earlier years.

“Is it work?” Kuroko asks, voice hoarse.

“I have put my work on hold for now.” Akashi says, transferring the fish onto a plate. “I’ll make time to catch up. To answer your question, it isn’t work.” Then, he asks him, “What do you want for breakfast?”

“I don’t want to trouble you too much, Akashi-kun.” Kuroko has a small smile on his face when he sees the tofu soup prepared with the fish. Typical Akashi.

“I can just have the same thing you’re having.”

“Okay.” Akashi says, “And don’t worry, I have time.”

Kuroko laughs and kisses him again. “I’ll go get my glasses upstairs.”

Gripping tightly onto the banister, Kuroko goes up the stairs to where their room is. His memory isn’t so bad for him to forget where he placed his eyeglasses. It’s routine, him promising to always put them in the same place. It’s a strange notion to be capable of even forgetting things like that. He breathes a sigh of relief when he grabs for them and puts them on.

 He takes his phone too, and browses through the calendar.

No tests are scheduled for today, and there’s a simple reminder that says “tell parents” for January 14. There’s also a reply from Yuta, who he informed in advance about hopefully scheduling a meeting two days from now. He goes down the stairs again to tell Akashi, seating himself near the dining table. His mouth hangs open a bit when Akashi lays out the fish cooked from earlier with a bowl of tofu soup.

“Akashi-kun, this is yours.”

“Eat it while it’s hot. I’ll make myself another one.”

“If you’re sure...” Kuroko trails off. “What time do you have to leave?”

“I have around twenty minutes. I’m going to the Tokyo estate to meet with my father.”

Kuroko’s chopsticks hover above the fish. “I guess there must be a reason you didn’t tell me.”

“It is only that now would be convenient for my father, Tetsuya. There’s no other particular reason, other than the fact that it would distress me if my father somehow distressed you in turn.” A faint smile appears in Akashi’s face. “I’ll be back at 12, latest.”

“Mm. I’ll stay here, then.” Kuroko swallows the food in his mouth, ”Yuta-san told me he could make it in the evening for the 17th.”

Akashi nods, a sign that he had heard. “Should I go with you?”

“I don’t think that will be necessary, Akashi-kun. I’m used to presenting myself in front of people by now. After that...” The look on Kuroko’s face turns softer. “It’ll all be over.”

Kuroko, from where he’s seated, patiently watches and waits for Akashi to prepare his own meal. While it’s happening, he thinks about the experience he’s had with acting. It’s hard to think about what he might do while idle after the transition, because he’s liked being anything but that - idle and without purpose.

When Akashi sits in front of him moments later, he says as much.

“I appreciate you doing these things for me, Akashi-kun, but I would like to try to do these things myself sometime.”

Akashi looks mildly surprised, hearing this. Kuroko continues.

“While I still can, I would like to get to experience doing these things, and... doing things for you too.”

“You know you really don’t have to force yourself, Tetsuya.“

“I’m not,” Kuroko says, firmer this time. He smiles. “I want to. And when... I can’t anymore, then I’ll know, and I’ll let you know, and we’ll figure something out, but that doesn’t change the fact that I did the things I could at the right time. Is it really so unreasonable-sounding?” Kuroko looks at him uneasily, “Because if it is, I’ll stop.”

“I can’t keep you from doing the things you want, Tetsuya, so long as they’re within reason.” Akashi tells him. “It’s hard to adjust, I admit. I’ve never had the chance to properly take care of people before. Not... not like this.”

Kuroko sets his bowl of soup down. “You’re doing a fine job, Akashi-kun.”

Akashi sneaks a look at Kuroko. He can’t read Kuroko’s thoughts. He comes up with numerous possibilities of what Kuroko is thinking about, because he clearly is thinking about something.

“Are you saying that to make me feel better?”

“No,” Kuroko says, “I wouldn’t lie about that. But that’s beside the point. I did promise that we’d help each other. We did, way back then.”

“I think I remember something like that.”

“Funny that you should forget.” And it is, because Akashi always does seem to be trapped in a bubble of subconscious that Kuroko cannot always pull him out of, burdens that should not be borne alone by any means.

They laugh together, and while there’s a real joy to it, there’s a gaping emptiness that’s there too, for each of them separately. Sharing it with one will drag the other one down too. They both know this, but they don’t deny that it’s there.

“We’ll have to talk things out properly someday. Everything.”

Both of them are not ready, but they will have to be.

One step at a time.

“What do you plan to do before I come home?” Akashi inquires. Kuroko doesn’t ponder this for long.

“Read.” He carries his plates and brings them to the sink. He turns on the faucet, and water starts running. There is an unabashed smile on his face. “Sherlock Holmes.” He hears the legs of Akashi’s chair scrape the floor.

Akashi leans into the crook of his neck, arms around his waist. “You always were fond of mysteries.”

Kuroko gives him a fond, knowing look. “You sure are one to talk.”

Kuroko hopes to never forget telling Akashi how much he loves him.

* * *

 

Akashi works on his laptop while heading to the home of his childhood. He doesn’t really think about anything outside of what he’s doing - his thoughts are frozen, much like all the other times he has arranged to meet with his father. In these instances, after all, it is better to keep his thoughts silent than to expect anything at all.

It will be hard to form the words, he knows.

He has never cracked before his father though. That is reserved only for himself, and soon enough, for Kuroko.

_But for how long can you keep that up?_

The voice inside his head laughs tauntingly.

_You are not invincible, Akashi Seijuro._

“No,” he murmurs, lifting his eyes from the screen. The air of the car’s ventilation system fans his neck and sends shivers down his spine, his words whispered, frosted and lingering.

“No, I’m not.” He says, no more louder than the earlier instance. Resignedly, he pulls down the laptop lid.

He is greeted by the estate’s tall, golden metal gates, opening automatically as if to serve as a welcome of sorts. There are only sprawling fields of snow-clad trees at first, until they draw nearer to the main entrance, where the non-operational fountain is displayed, surrounded by sculptures carved into the likeness of men and women, some with the wings of angels. Opposed to his and Tetsuya’s home now - compared even to Tetsuya’s own childhood home - no, _especially_ to that home, it is hollow and bare. It is like an abandoned castle straight out of some storybook read to children.

_“You aren’t invincible, Akashi-kun, but realistically, no one is.”_

_“No one can be.”_

The car door is opened for him by the chauffeur. He emerges and is shown the way despite having known it for all his life. While guests are normally received in the parlour, his father has always strictly met with him in his personal, antiquated office. That’s not where Akashi’s led this time though, surprisingly enough.

He is led, instead, to the patio, smelling of frost instead of gardenias and roses. The scent of spring had lingered, always, with his mother’s presence - he wonders if his father actually has any intention of speaking to him there instead. It only seeks to remind him of loss, a cruel reminder of bygone childhood.

In comparison, amongst the bent stalks and bushes, his father is unmovable, with high cheekbones and a dignified posture. The way he carries himself is seared into his weary bones, and there is no question that he is a powerful man just by looking at him.

Still, the years have not been kind.

“Seijuro.”

Hearing this, however, reminds Akashi that some things will never change.

Akashi bows a sign of respect. “Father,” he greets. At the corner of his eye, he can see a maid religiously waiting a few meters away from his father for instructions while standing. Masaomi gestures him to take a seat wherever he wants, so he does on one of the chairs.

“Delia,” He says, “If you would be so kind as to bring Seijuro a cup of tea.”

Before Delia can respond, Akashi holds a hand up. He directs his words at his father.

“I don’t plan on prolonging my stay, father.” He looks to Delia, “That won’t be necessary.”

Delia bows and takes a step back, feeling the tension in the air.

“Ah, of course.” Masaomi grimaces, hearing Akashi’s words. He brings his lips to the rim of the cup, and doesn’t elaborate. When he sets the cup down, he places his fingers on the table. They fidget. Masaomi flexes them, and takes a deep intake of breath.

“So, Seijuro,” He starts, “You wanted to tell me something?”

The look in Akashi’s eyes softens. “How are you feeling, father?”

Masaomi seems to allow him this, because he gives an answer instead of dismissing the notion altogether. “It does not matter.” That’s not to say the answer he gives is very helpful. He gives Akashi a meaningful look, one that is much like an accusation. “Unfortunately, I’m still here.”

He doesn’t say anything to this, though admittedly, it makes him uncomfortable to hear his father say such a thing, as if calling him out on his former weakness. “... You’re right, father. I did want to tell you something. It’s about Tetsuya.”

“I had thought that you wanted independence over that matter, Seijuro. What changed?”

“Tetsuya, he has Alzheimer’s.”

This makes his father twitch. There is a look in his father’s eyes, almost like that of pity. Maybe even sympathy, if he looks hard enough.

“What can I do for you?”

* * *

 

It’s surprising to see Midorima call him of all people. Kuroko sets down his book and picks it up.

“Midorima-kun?”

“Kuroko,” Midorima says, the sound of papers in the background. “I happen to be on my lunch break right now, and I wanted to talk to you about the situation.”

Kuroko leans back onto the pillow, and he sinks into its depths. Midorima’s words weigh heavily in his mind.  “I see.” He takes a deep breath. He winces upon remembering being in Midorima’s clinic. Akashi had looked so devastated.

“For the lack of a better word, I am... concerned for the two of you. You and Akashi are important to me.”

It warms Kuroko’s heart, because Midorima does not often make such professions, though their frequency has gone up over the years, ever since Midorima happened upon Takao back in high school.

“Have you done your research, Kuroko?”

“I have.” He has done so without Akashi’s knowledge, because Akashi would tell him not to worry about things like that. “The other Alzheimer’s patients...” He trails off.

“Most of them did not contract it as early as you did. People deal with it in different ways, but it is all along the lines of anguish and shock and hopelessness. It isn’t any easier for those who are alone, if you are wondering. It may sound cruel, but you are lucky to have Akashi.”

“I never said I wasn’t. I-”

Midorima stays silent, listening. Kuroko heaves a sigh, burying his face in his hand.

“You should have this conversation with him instead. You know that I am awkward with expressing myself. Besides, I’m simply not the right person to be telling you these things. The main reason why I called is that I wanted to assure the two of you that if you needed me, I will be here.”

Kuroko closes his eyes. “That’s reassuring, Midorima-kun. I’m thankful. I’m sure Akashi-kun is too.”

“I’ll be sending you and Akashi copies of PDFs of references that might be helpful. Have you thought about what would happen if Kise and the others found out?”

If he is to be completely honest, he’s forgotten. He hasn’t forgotten to that deep of an extent though, to not know how all the others would react to the news. It will be a big blow to all of them. Kise, in particular, has known him since high school, and has always been so affectionate with him. While Kise is strong, it is also true that he feels strongly... and truth be told, so does Momoi, and Aomine internalizes many things, but surely he will be angry too, even if he cannot do anything about it, and nothing will console him about the fact that he can’t. Midorima is hurting too – he’s a doctor, his profession so close to the situation at hand, and Murasakibara holds their circle of friends dear, despite what people may think...

“I have.” It’s a white lie – after all, all of them deserve to know. They deserve Kuroko’s time, all of it that is left. “I feel like such a coward, Midorima-kun. If only it would... end.” His heart feels like lead. Midorima coughs sharply on the other side.

“I’m sorry. That was wrong of me.” 

Midorima sighs. “Coward is the last thing you should describe yourself as, and that should be the least of your worries. They are all strong in their own way. I am sure they will find ways.” A pause, as if Midorima is asking himself how he will fare, how simple it sounds. “I should go.” He says finally.   

“Goodbye, Midorima-kun.” Kuroko tells him, “Thank you for listening.”

“Of course.”

* * *

 

Sunday was family day for the Aomine family, though that Sunday in particular happened to be the day of the month their parents came over – Aomine’s and Momoi’s, that is. Hiroaki sped towards the door. Aomine trailed slightly behind to greet his in-laws, who were pretty much like his own parents.

“Reiji-jii-san, Sayaka-baa-chan!”

The said elders embraced their grandchild with warm smiles. Aomine bowed when their attention turned to him. He closed the door.

“It’s been a while sir, ma’am.”

 “You and Hiro-kun seem to be doing well.” Reiji nodded, “Is Miuna-san here already?”

“If you’re looking for them, they’re at the kitchen, sir.”

Sayaka gasped, looking truly horrified. “You let my daughter into the kitchen?!”

“More like she let herself in.” He shrugged, “It’s only for little things. I’m sure my mom can handle her. She’s not exactly... ignorant about Satsuki’s prowess in the kitchen. I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you.”

“What’s prowess?” Hiroaki asked, looking at his elders with wide eyes.

Aomine was the one to answer the question. “It means how good someone is at something.”

“Ohhh, as expected of ‘tou-san.” He grinned, and with his relentless energy, ran past the dining room and to the kitchen entrance. He was always told to never enter the kitchen abruptly.

“ ’Kaa-san, we’re complete now!”

Momoi and Miuna shared a look. “I’ll take care of this, Satsuki-chan.”

Reiji and Sayaka entered the kitchen. Miuna beamed.

“Is there anything we can do to help?”

Aomine raised his hand. “I’ll do it. Make yourselves at home, please. You too, mom.”

“Well, if you insist.” She removed her oven glove and pinched his cheek. There was laughter from outside the kitchen, and she was quick to join them. Momoi nudged Aomine, and he gave what he hoped was a sheepish smile.

“Hiro.”

Hiro turned towards his father upon being called.

“Go talk to your grandparents for us, will you?”

“Okay!”

Before long, he and Momoi were alone in the kitchen. There was lots of good food in big amounts, mostly because Aomine was the biggest eater of them all, and Hiroaki himself had quite the appetite – and of course, because there were more people. It was something else he’d inherited from his father. Aomine inhaled the smell of his mother’s cooking. Specifically, her trademark okonomiyaki.

“Not yet, Dai-chan.” Momoi said jokingly. “No touching.”

Aomine grabbed a pair of kitchen gloves from the counter. “Relax, Satsuki, I know you’ll need help bringing stuff over.”

“It’s going to be a long day,” She laughed, “Maybe it’ll take me off of stress from work. The question’s going to come up eventually.” With a sigh, she turned off the faucet, wiping her hands with a towel. “I’m glad I get to spend time with you and Hiroaki-kun though. It’s not nearly as hard if I think about that. In fact, it is with the everyday we share that I’m... really happy.”

“And I’m happy if you’re happy, Satsuki.”

He set down the plates on the dinner table, and upon entering the kitchen, Momoi told him,  “Sometimes, I wonder what it’d be like if Akashi-kun and Tetsu-kun had a child of their own.”

The thought immediately brought a smile to Aomine’s face. They both knew it wasn’t very likely, considering Akashi and Kuroko’s busy lives, but they were free to think about it. It was a wonderful thought. “The kid would be really smart, for starters. And really lucky...” He trailed off.

If there was anything that he and Akashi had in common despite lying in the opposite ends of the societal spectrum, it was the absence of proper fatherly figures in their lives. He was kind of happy Hiroaki didn’t have to experience that.

“I mean, if you have Akashi and Tetsu as your parents, that’s like hitting bingo, isn’t it?”

Momoi nodded.

“Maybe they’re happy as they are.” She chimed in.

 _As long as everyone’s happy, I cannot ask for more,_ was what she thought as she lifted up the okonomiyaki and left the kitchen with a smile on her face.

“Sure you don’t need any help with that?”

“I’m fine, Dai-chan! Now bring the others before they get cold-“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Kuroko's parents will have to confront the harsh truth.  
> Akashi will have to break it to them.

**Author's Note:**

> I would be interested in hearing the guesses of what Kuroko is sick with. Unless you've attempted to write a fanfic of this sort before or are well-read regarding the topic (or actually have a relative with this disease), it's actually a bit hard to guess xD  
> Thank you for reading, and have a nice day ^^


End file.
